


It's A Rare Condition

by gloria_andrews



Series: Stefan Urquelle [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP pretty much lol, Steve Urkel/Stefan Urquelle, discussions of turn ons, family matters, lots and lots of kissing, thank you jaleel white
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8755285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_andrews/pseuds/gloria_andrews
Summary: Louis and Marcel stumble upon an old episode of Family Matters and accidentally get an idea...





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the super awesome [Family Matters Theme Song!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zsY5ReW9PQ)
> 
> Please refer to [Steve Urkel's wikipedia page](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Urkel) if you are unfamiliar with Family Matters and the entire concept of Stefan Urquelle!!!!

The idea may never have occurred to them if they hadn’t gone on vacation to Great Smoky Mountains National Park a little too early in the year, forced into it by the mid-March spring break of the school Louis taught at, and ended up spending the better part of six days holed up in a little cabin while frigid drizzle fell outside.

“There’s nothing on,” Louis said, tugging a quilt off the back of the couch and draping it over his shoulders.  He wedged his hands in between this thighs, shivering.  Whoever rented out the cabin was stingy about the heat.  

Marcel shot him a look over his shoulder and then went quickly back to turning the dial on the ancient television set, cycling through the five or six channels available to them as though something watchable might magically appear if he just kept clicking.  

Louis laughed. “Not that I would know if there was something to watch, anyway,” he pointed out, teasing, “since you’re blocking the TV, yet again.”

Marcel let out a huff of a laugh that was tinged with mock outrage.  He took a pointed step to the side with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, so Louis’s view of the screen was unobscured, and then resumed turning the dial.  

“Maybe,” he said, “you wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to see, if you didn’t insist on treating me like your own personal remote control.”

Louis laughed softly, snuggling further into the the quilt, and turning to look out the window at the view of the mountains in the distance, hazy and almost blue through the shroud of mist and fog.  Despite the almost uniformly atrocious weather, it had actually been a fairly successful trip so far.  They’d managed to get four hikes in during breaks in the rain, sidestepping the giant puddles on the paths as they made their way through sodden, newly green woods.  And it was so nice coming back to the cabin afterward, getting to cuddle up under piles of blankets and watch TV.

Louis glanced back at where Marcel was still standing by the television, smiling to himself as he thought about how cute Marcel always looked when they came back inside after a hike, his glasses fogged up and his carefully tamed hair all frizzy from the moisture in the air.

The trip had been successful so far, but they’d spent more and more time indoors as the week had gone on, and Louis was starting to feel antsy.  Starting to feel a little bored, really.  It suddenly seem of grave importance that Marcel join him again on the couch and do something to relieve this boredom.

“Okay, there’s nothing on!” Louis repeated, this time with more impatience.  “Just pick something and come back over here and sit down so I can touch you.”

Marcel scoffed out a pleased laugh, rolling his eyes again.  “Fine,” he announced, turning the dial one last time and then shuffling back over to Louis and collapsing next to him on the couch.  He let out a content sigh once Louis had arranged them under the blanket together, an arm around Marcel’s shoulders and Marcel’s head resting on his collarbone.  “There’s something on, after all!” he announced happily. “Family Matters!”

Reginald VelJohnson was indeed on screen as Carl Winslow in front of them, his lips pursed in annoyance as he glared at someone out of the shot.  

“Urkel,” Louis whispered, just before the camera cut to him, standing with his hips thrust slightly forward and his thumbs tucked into his suspenders.  

“Did I do that?” Marcel said in unison with Steve, and they both laughed along with the studio audience, Louis’s arm tightening around Marcel as his shoulders shook.  

“Maybe you should just go as Urkel for Halloween next year,” Louis said, running his fingers through Marcel’s hair. “Just wear like, a normal, run of the mill Tuesday outfit for you, and you’re all set.”

Marcel elbowed him, laughing.  “I don’t wear suspenders,” he pointed out.

Louis laughed, too.  “Mostly everything else, though.”    

Marcel shrugged in agreement, his dimple visible in his cheek.  Louis leaned over and kissed it twice, his heart expanding as the dimple deepened and Marcel scrunched his face up in pleasure at the touch. “I’d have to buy some blue jeans, too,” he mumbled, “like where do you get that particular shade of blue these days, anyway?  It’s like, blue jeans if you colored them in with a crayola crayon or something.  I don’t have that.”    

“Blue jeans?” Louis giggled, “you sound like my mom. Why don’t you just call them dungarees, Marcel? I know you want to.”

Marcel elbowed him again, shaking his head and laughing.  

Louis felt almost awash in love for his boyfriend.  He let his eyes run up and down Marcel’s body, his heart fluttering at how long Marcel’s legs looked, propped up on the coffee table in front of them.  The truth was, even Marcel’s relaxation outfits were a bit strange.  He always like to settle his pants at or above his belly button.  He loved to button everything all the way up and and he _loved_ to tuck stuff in.  T-shirts into pants, pants into socks.    

“Shut up,” Marcel said, waving a hand at the TV, where the commercial break was ending, “it’s on again.”

Louis leaned back though, twisting his head a little so he could peer down at Marcel and watch the light from the television play across his face.  He felt a powerful tug of emotion in his throat, a familiar mix of tenderness, guilt, relief, and love making his chest tighten and tears threaten to spring into his eyes.  He just felt so goddamn lucky they could joke this way, now.  They’d been together for over half a decade, and it still floored Louis sometimes that it had even worked out at all.

When they were younger, Marcel’s unusual fashion sense -- his general unusual manner and self, actually -- had frustrated Louis, embarrassed him on occasion, even.  Louis literally couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t known Marcel.  They’d grown up three houses apart and their mothers were best friends, so they’d been shoved into playpens together before they could even talk.  Louis had always known Marcel -- had always known him all the way -- so he’d always been aware that underneath the awkward and seemingly paradoxical mix of over enthusiasm and paralyzing shyness there was a hilarious and wonderful person.  But that didn’t mean that younger, much less mature versions of Louis hadn’t blamed Marcel for other people’s inability to immediately see that.  

Louis closed his eyes momentarily, thoughts of junior high and high school and, most poignantly, college flooding through him.  Memories of parties where Louis had been too small and selfish and unsure of his own place to help his oldest friend navigate social situations that Louis knew made him uncomfortable.  Shameful times when he’d turned a blind eye, pretending he didn’t even know that Marcel was anxious at all.               

 _What a weak fucking bastard I was._ Louis thought, watching Marcel chortle in an extra Marcel-ish way at something that was happening on the show.  He must have felt Louis’s eyes on him, because he turned his head as soon as there was an ad break, brow quirked in concern.

“What’s the matter?”

Louis shook his head, shrugging.  He took one of Marcel’s elegant hands into his own.  “Nothing, just happy to have you, that’s all.”

Marcel’s smile was gentle, but there was a wariness about his eyes, like he knew Louis wasn’t quite telling him the truth.  “Me too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Louis’s lips and turning back to look at the TV. “Remember Urkel’s girlfriend?” he asked.

Louis was startled into a short laugh.  “No…” he said, “why?”

“Myra,” Marcel said, his fingers still laced with Louis’s and his voice soft, “the actress died young.  Cancer.”

“What?” Louis said.  He felt oddly stricken despite having entirely forgotten about this person’s existence until three seconds prior, and he nudged Marcel with his shoulder, frowning. “Why would you bring that up, knowing I’m already emotional?”  

Marcel raised his eyebrows pointedly, his lips twitching as he struggled against a triumphant smile.

Louis let out a sound of disgust, swatting at Marcel’s shoulder.  “What the fuck, Marcel!” he said, “Exploiting a story like that just to catch me out?”

“Shut up, don’t make me feel guilty,” Marcel said, clearly feeling a little guilty.  “You’re the one who lied!

“I didn’t lie,” Louis said, “I _am_ happy to have you.”

Marcel snorted.  He sat up fully on the couch, angling his body so he could look right at Louis.  His absurd eyelashes were brushing against his thick glasses as he blinked at him.  “Yeah, but you also said nothing was bothering you,” he pointed out, “that was a lie.”

Louis took a deep breath and shrugged, avoiding eye contact and exhaling slowly along with sound of Steve Urkel laughing on TV.  He and Marcel gave soft laughs of their own when Steve did his famous snort.

“It wasn’t that anything was bothering me, really,” Louis said, after they’d fallen quiet.  He could feel his cheeks threatening to heat under Marcel’s laser focused attention.  Even after all these years, it was a little overwhelming sometimes, the way Marcel could zero in on something so intently.  “I just.  I don’t know.  I felt like, nostalgic, or whatever…” He glanced up at Marcel and then quickly looked away again, bashful, and embarrassed about feeling so.  “I’m glad we took this vacation.  I’m -- I’m, I don’t know, I really am happy to have you.”

“Nostalgic how?” Marcel pressed, pushing his glassed up his nose and squinting through them.

“Mmmm, just about college?” Louis said, deliberately vague.

Marcel just stared at him.  

Louis chewed on the inside of his lip.  He’d turned sideways to face Marcel as well, but he continued to avoid eye contact, picking at floral upholstery on the back of the couch.  

“I’m glad we came, too,” Marcel said at last, taking Louis’s hand again. He giggled and nodded toward the window, now streaked with drops of rain. “I mean, we got so lucky with the weather and all.”

Louis gave a weak laugh of his own in response.  It felt like Marcel was letting him off the hook, and his heart flipped over in his chest as he realized that wasn’t what he wanted.  “I just -- it’s.  It’s everything about you!” he blurted.  “I love everything about you!  And I wasted so much time…”

“Oh, _Lou_ ,” Marcel said, drawing the name out and rolling his head around in what appeared to be exasperation.  

“I know we talked about this before,” Louis said, pouting slightly because his big love declaration had gone unreciprocated.  Marcel usually always reciprocated I loves yous.   

“We were both growing up,” Marcel said, rolling his eyes.  “We _both_ needed to grow up, back then.  You always act like you cut me out of your life or something.  I never once felt that way.  I wasn’t  -- well, sometimes I was -- but mostly -- mostly I wasn’t lonely!  How many times do I have to tell you?”

“More times, apparently!” Louis snapped, a little stung.  

“Hey, Hey!” Marcel said, tightening his grip on Louis’s hand and holding on, even when Louis childishly tried to pull it away.  He waited until Louis finally peeked over at him again, giving him a pointed look.  “I love you, too.  Thank you for telling me you love me.  I just get frustrated with you feeling guilty all the time, like I was miserable throughout college or something.  Like, did you forget the part when we started to do it, practically all the time?”

Louis snorted out an embarrassed laugh with a roll of his eyes.  “That was toward the end...”

Marcel let out a cackle. “I hate to break it to you, Lou Lou, but I did okay even without you.”

“Oh yeah?” Louis said.  The tension inside him had started to ease, irritation and embarrassment falling away.  “Well, _I_ missed you the whole time.”

“Oh sure you did,” Marcel teased, his eyes bright.  He broke into laughter, his shoulders hunching in and shaking with it.

“What?” Louis asked, a smile in his voice.

“It’s just making me laugh,” he said, beaming, “how much Urkel reminds you of me.”

“Shut up.”

Marcel shook his head, still grinning and tugging Louis toward him on the couch by the ankle. “Only you, Lou. Only you would get guilt tripped by Family Matters.”

By the time Marcel had pulled Louis completely on top of him, Louis was flushed with pleasure over the sheer affection he could see in Marcel’s face.  “Shut up,” he said again, happily.

“And I mean, how offensive! Lumping me in with him, we’re completely different types of nerds!” Marcel kept shaking his head, giggling and craning his neck to kiss Louis all over his face.  “Wait, were you going to tell me you loved Stefan Urquelle better?” he asked, clearly pleased with himself over having come up with the thought. “And break my heart?”

Louis burst out laughing, throwing his head back, just as delighted as Marcel.

“Oh, maybe it’s true!” Marcel said, settling back against the cushions. “I think it’s true! You remember Stefan but not Myra!  Poor Myra!  Poor me!”

“Stefan Urquelle is legendary, okay?” Louis said. “I know you know that.”

In junior high they’d spent hours together in Marcel’s basement every afternoon, watching syndicated episodes of Saved by the Bell and Full House and Family Matters on WGN.  They’d both loved when the Stefan episodes came on, always hooting and hollering along with the studio audience when Steve emerged from his transformation chamber as Stefan.  

“I’m devastated by this information,” Marcel said, “all it would take is some oversized blazers and you’d be fainting right into my arms.”

“Um, It’s not just the outfits,” Louis pointed out, straddling Marcel now.  He poked at Marcel’s tummy, “Stefan was super smooth.  You’d have to charm me, too.”

“I could charm you,” Marcel said slowly, his eyes narrowing as he considered it.  “I could definitely charm you.”   

“What would your alter-ego be called then, huh?” Louis asked, fluffing Marcel’s hair back away from his face. “Marquelle?”

Marcel gave a wonderful squawk of laughter and then shook his head, schooling his face into an expression of even seriousness, calm and collected.  “No,” he said firmly, “I’d go by my middle name.  Harry.  I’d be Harry.  Harry Styles.” He’d pitched his voice a little deeper than usual as he spoke, giving it a bit of rasp, and Louis shivered slightly as it resonated through him.  

He could see the exact moment when his reaction landed, Marcel’s eyes going absurdly wide and his mouth dropping open a little. “Oh my god!” he crowed, fluttering a big hand in delight.  “Oh my god! You liked it! You liked it!”

Louis huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes at himself, not even really bothering to try to deny it as he shoved at Marcel’s shoulder and shook his head.  Marcel leveled him with appraising eyes once he’d finished his initial revelling.

“Would you get off on that?” he asked, using the same slightly altered voice as before -- rocky and low and deeply confident.  There was a wicked twist to his mouth that made Louis’s heart skitter in a way he wasn’t used to.  “Cool-me, trying to seduce you?”

Another shiver ran through Louis’s body at the question, this time accompanied by a pulse of liquid heat so intense it almost made his breath strangle.  He blinked and licked his lips, confused and caught off guard by the strength of his reaction.  He didn’t know why such a seemingly subtle shift in Marcel’s demeanor -- why the mere suggestion of it -- had him so worked up, so quickly, his blood thundering in his ears. “You’re cool already...” he just barely managed to get out in a whisper.

Marcel made a low tutting sound, ignoring Louis’s evasion and closing his hands over the sides of Louis’s hips to steady him in his lap.  He looked like some kind of hyper-intelligent bird of prey as his eyes darted over Louis’s face, his brow knit.  “You would, wouldn’t you?” he murmured thoughtfully, running the pads of his thumbs up and under Louis’s t-shirt and over the soft skin of his stomach, sending yet another hot shiver down Louis’s spine.  “You’d like it if I got all dressed up as this Harry Styles character and approached you.  Crowded right up into your personal space like I belonged there...”    

Louis took a hitching breath and barely suppressed a shudder.  His eyes fluttered shut as he pictured this cocky, well-dressed version of his boyfriend standing nice and close and looking down at him with a knowing smile, his intentions clear.  

_Fuck._

Louis’s fists clenched at his sides and he swallowed hard, trying and failing to get some kind of a hold on himself.  He felt thrown by the sheer, immediate intensity of his physiological response to the whole idea, and somehow his unease over his apparent lack of self-control only seemed to heighten his arousal.  

“But you do, um -- you do belong there,” he finally managed. He tensed his thighs around Marcel’s, hyper-aware of the way his growing erection was now pressing into Marcel’s groin. “In -- in my personal space.”    

“Does  _he_ though?” Marcel continued in that same confoundingly sexy voice, this time almost purring the words out as he continued to caress Louis’s lower belly, brushing his thumbs over the points of Louis’s hipbones.  “Does _Harry_ belong there?  He seems to think so, doesn’t he?  Seems to think he’s got you all figured out.  Knows just exactly what you want.  He’s a little presumptuous, maybe... ” Marcel said, still tracing patterns on Louis’s skin, his gaze focused and electric. “He’s not wrong though, is he?”        

“ _Marcel_ ,” Louis choked out in a pained whine, shaking his head as he shifted helplessly in Marcel’s lap.  He was so completely turned on that he felt almost delirious at that point.   

Marcel raised a hand up to run the backs of his fingers down Louis’s heated cheek, and Louis went slack jawed at the bright-hot wonder he saw on Marcel’s face.  He seemed to be marveling at how feverish Louis’s skin had gone in such a short time, apparently just as astounded as Louis was by Louis’s over the top response.

“Fuck,” Marcel said.  He thumbed at Louis’s lower lip, his pupils dilated and his voice hoarse from desire. “You _really_ like this idea, don’t you?”  

He cut Louis off with a kiss before Louis had a chance to respond. It was hot and slick and desperate, but somehow Marcel still had complete control over it, angling Louis’s head just the way he pleased and brushing their tongues together, velvet-soft and slow.  Louis whimpered into it, turning into jelly in Marcel’s arms as he pressed closer, pushing for more, aching for it.  The skillful, measured pleasure Marcel was giving Louis was in such stark contrast to the frantic, rising tide of his want, and it only made Louis feel even more crazy with it -- a perfect torture that had him rutting against Marcel’s thigh and feeling like he was about to shoot off in his boxers before Marcel really touched him at all.  

“ _Marcel,_ ” he practically moaned it this time, panting when Marcel broke the kiss to work his lips along Louis’s jaw and back behind his ear.  

“Jesus Christ, Lou,” Marcel hissed into the crook of Louis’s neck, fumbling with the drawstring on Louis’s sweatpants so he could snake a hand inside and wrap it around Louis’s throbbing cock.  “I got you.  I got you.”

Louis made a high, soft sound, and came, nearly with Marcel’s first stroke, shuddering through the vivid sensation with hiccupping gasps as he spilled all over Marcel’s hand, his hips still hitching slightly even as the feeling ebbed away. He collapsed forward and off to the side, slumping against the back of the couch with his legs still tangled over Marcel’s lap.  He was utterly useless and only dazedly aware that Marcel was jerking off furiously beside him, mumbling an incoherent stream of curse words until he tensed up and finished with a low groan, himself.  

Marcel tidied up quickly afterward, leaning across Louis to grab some tissues from the box on the end table and then shuffling off to dispose of them.  Louis just sat there with his eyes closed, listening to the continued murmur of the television and the gradual calming of his breathing as rain pinged against the windows, coming down harder now.  He felt stunned and spent and a little exposed, and he needed Marcel to be the one to break the silence.      

Which he did a few minutes later, after he’d flopped back down onto the couch so he was facing Louis and began to brush Louis’s hair back from his forehead in a way he knew Louis liked.  “Well,” was all he said, keeping his hand moving through Louis’s hair.     

Louis took a deep breath and exhaled slowly in response, leaning into Marcel’s touch and giving a single nod, his eyes closed.  He finally open them after Marcel gave a small huff of a laugh, and his face flushed all over again when he watched the infinitely soft look on Marcel’s face somehow go even softer.

“Well…” Louis echoed, fidgeting and giving a nervous laugh of his own.  

“That was -- “ Marcel’s lips curled into a small smile and he shook his head, “are you alright?”

Louis nodded, rolling his eyes, his cheeks hotter than ever.   

“I mean, that was -- ” Marcel let out another choked, awkward chuckle.  “That was… something.”

Louis rolled his eyes again and ducked his head.  He was at a loss for what to say, so he grabbed Marcel’s hand on impulse and began to play with his fingers, instead.   

They sat that way for a little while, until Marcel nudged Louis on the shoulder, coaxing him into eye contact again.  He smiled playfully, raising his eyebrows. “Do I need to get to work on building a Transformation Chamber when we get home, then?”

Louis burst into groaning laughter, grumbling and shaking his head as he swatted at Marcel, the tension inside him easing a little bit.

“I don’t know,” Marcel was clearly enjoying himself as he dodged Louis’s hands, “I think the sooner construction starts the better.  It’s probably fairly advanced science.”

“Oh, yes,” Louis said, with a snort, “incredibly advanced.  Requiring like, one refrigerator box and a lot of poster paint…”

Marcel made a face like he was seriously considering Louis’s proposal. “How does one acquire a refrigerator box without buying actually a fridge?” he asked.

Louis let out another small laugh and rolled his eyes, adjusting the hem of his t-shirt.  “I’m sure you’d figure that part out.”

“Anything for you,” Marcel said, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses.  

Louis’s heart twisted.  “Not -- “ he cleared his throat and tried again, “Not just for me, though, right?”

Marcel blinked at him.

“I just mean,” Louis began, cringing slightly over having to spell it out, when the entire concept was so absurd to start with, “this like, hypothetical Transformation Chamber or whatever… “ he could see when understanding dawned on Marcel’s face, his mouth dropping open to interrupt, but Louis kept right on going, “I mean, you -- you um, liked it, too, right?  It wouldn’t really just be for me?”

“What? No!” Marcel said, his brow furrowing in that thoughtful, concerned way he had, his eyes bright and intent over top of his glasses.  Louis normally loved it when they were close enough together that Marcel could let his glasses slide down his nose and still see Louis clearly over top of them, but right now he was feeling a little vulnerable.  “I mean, yes, I liked it! Obviously, I mean,” Marcel went on, leaning forward because Louis had shrunk back, “I -- I definitely liked it that you liked it so much…”

Louis’s stomach dropped, and he cringed further away, his face burning.  It wasn’t fair to Marcel, but that really wasn’t what Louis had wanted to hear.  Intellectually, he knew that Marcel had truly been turned on, and that it was okay if he’d pretty much only been turned on because _Louis_ had been so incredibly turned on, but despite that, it suddenly felt like he’d been totally alone in it all.  Like he’d made a fool of himself. Gagging for it.

“It wasn’t only that.  It wasn’t!” Marcel kept following Louis as he slunk away down the couch, immediately picking up on Louis’s distress and the reason for it.  He waited to speak again until he’d finally nudged Louis back into making the barest of eye contact, and then let out a sheepish laugh, flicking his hair back out of his eyes, two bright red spots of blush appearing on the apple of his cheeks.  Louis loved those spots; Marcel was such a doll. “I was really into too, okay? Like -- it surprised me, um, how much I was. Your reaction is maybe what set it off, at -- at first, but I -- I don’t know… There was something about it… like, something about playing a part… “ he kept trailing off and shaking his head, the words coming out staggered and awkward, and he finally sighed, rolling his eyes and then staring right at Louis. “I don’t know what it was, but I was totally into it, in -- in my own right, okay? I really was.”

Louis chewed on the inside of his lip, keeping his eyeline directed at Marcel’s chest.  “It’s fine if it _was_ just me…” he mumbled.

Marcel huffed out a hollow laugh and brought a hand up to cup the back of Louis’s neck, rubbing gently.  “It really wasn’t.”  

They sat in silence for a few more beats before Louis was able to overcome the last of his stubborn insecurity and respond. “Okay.”

“That’s it?  Okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis scratched at his eyebrow self-consciously, fighting a smile, “that’s it.  Just gimme a minute, all right?”

“Okay,” Marcel echoed, nodding, but he barely made it a full minute before he was fidgeting beside Louis, vibrating with the need to talk again.  “Why do you think -- I mean,” he bit his bottom lip, his blush spots going even brighter, “what was it about it, for you, do you think? Like why was it so -- ”

“I don’t -- I really don’t know, either!“ Louis cut in, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air in a way he immediately felt dorky about. The blanket he’d wrapped around his shoulders while watching TV was now wedged in the space between the cushions and the back of the couch, and he yanked at it, arranging it around himself as a distraction.  “I just… liked it.”

Marcel made a noise in the back of his throat, like that was the understatement of the century.  “Well, yeah… but why?”

“Let me think, okay? Lemme think,” Louis mumbled.  He’d settled the blanket high around his neck like a barber’s apron, and he squirmed under it, resituating himself several times before he hugged his knees to his chest.  “I liked, um.  I liked the way -- the way you were talking,” Louis rolled his eyes at himself as shiver went through him, heat flaring up inside him at the memory. “And…” His voice trailed off when goosebumps broke out all over the skin of his arms.  

 _This is ridiculous.  I am ridiculous._  

“And?” Marcel pressed, voice still hoarse.

Louis licked his lips, he was picturing this hypothetical non-Marcel Marcel again, leaning over him, all hot and dangerous.  Knowing Louis wanted him.  Clearly wanting Louis back.   _Fuck._  Louis nerves were back on high alert, his heartbeat erratic and his breath coming short, just from thinking about it all over again.   

“Like, the idea…  the idea of you -- ” Louis stammered, swallowing hard.  “Of - of you being so, so -- I don’t know, confident and in control of everything and -- and into me... I was so into that, and I didn’t know -- _don’t_ know why, really.  And, um, that made me sort of nervous, not being sure, and _that_ sort of -- sort of, um, turned me on even more?”

“In control?  It was me being in control?”  Marcel asked, leaning close, his face full of open fascination.  Louis felt his cock twitch and he shuddered slightly when Marcel started stroking his fingers up and down the bare skin on the inside of his arm, his nipples pebbling.  Marcel’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t feel out of control, did you?  Or -- or did you like that, too?”

Louis swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.  Both his mind and heart were racing, and it was hard to even think straight.  

_Control.  Control.  Out of control.  Am I out of control?_

He clearly had no control over his arousal level when it came to this.  He was already ready to go, chubbing up quickly in his sweatpants just from trying to get to the root of why he’d been so incredibly turned on earlier.  It was like some kind of ridiculous arousal feedback loop, and Louis had never experienced anything like it before.  He always wanted Marcel, but something about this was different.  New and just -- more, somehow.  

“Did you like being a little out of control?” Marcel asked again, leaning in even closer, his fingers still stroking Louis’s arms.      

Louis took a deep breath, swallowing again and trying to settle himself, reaching for some kind of answer in his hazy, lust-filled brain.  His desire felt deliciously and dangerously unstoppable inside him, like a runaway cart gaining momentum as it hurtled down a mineshaft, teetering on and off the track and careening around corners.  Marcel’s presence was somehow the only grounding factor, the sparking brake that Louis knew would prevent him from sailing completely off the rails.  It was thrilling, he realized, being able to let go, and knowing Marcel would be there to catch him.    

“I’m not out of control,” he said slowly.  Louis’s whole body trembled as Marcel’s fingertips continued to whisper across his skin.  “But _I’m_ not incontrol, either.”  

Marcel nodded slowly in understanding, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled through his nose.  He put a hand on his chest.  “I’m in control.  I take the lead.”  

The words came out as a prompt for confirmation, and Louis provided it quickly. “You take the lead...”     

“I take the lead,” Marcel repeated, raspy and low and directly into Louis’s ear, drawing a soft sound out of him.  Marcel pulled back so they were staring at each other, and Louis could see the moment when his expression shifted fully over, his eyes glowing in the low lit room as he took on his role.  Louis shivered when Marcel spoke again, gravel-voiced and confident, edging on cocky.  Just like before.  Just like Louis wanted.  “I take the lead, and I want you, Louis.”

Marcel gathered Louis up in his arms, pressing their bodies close and kissing him.  Kissing him just like he had earlier that afternoon, deep and lush and hot, the urgency perfectly harnessed, and Louis moaned against Marcel’s full mouth, melting.

“You,” Marcel murmured between kisses, sitting up fully and pulling Louis onto his lap by the globes of his ass.  “I only want you.”

Louis lost time, unsure of how long they’d been kissing, and he let out a squeak when Marcel stood up with him in his arms, using the impressive strength of his thighs to do so and only succeeding in turning Louis on even more.  Louis’s legs wrapped around Marcel’s body automatically, and he let out another wounded sound at the feel of their erections pressing together again.   

“I only want you, Louis,” Marcel whispered, still in his wonderfully firm, cool-Marcel tone.  If Louis’d had any of his wits about him, he might have laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all, but instead the words just had him grinding his hips into Marcel’s, nearly out of his mind with how much he wanted to fuck. “And _you_ only want me to take you to bed, don’t you?”   

Louis nodded vigorously, still cradled in Marcel’s arms as they made their way to the only bedroom in the cabin.  “Yeah, yes.  Please, Marcy, please.”  

Marcel dropped Louis down onto the mattress once they’d reached the bed and regarded him from above, the wicked twist that drove Louis wild back on his mouth.  He cut an amazing figure from Louis’s perspective, tall and strong and perfectly lean, and it felt like every pass of his eyes over Louis’s body sent Louis’s core temperature higher, until he was literally squirming under the scrutiny, his dick practically dripping in his boxers. “ _Marce.  Marcel_.”

Marcel’s smirk went even darker.  “Shouldn’t you be calling me Harry?” he asked, his eyes full of lust and mirth as he knelt on the bed and yanked Louis’s sweatpants down with absolutely no preamble, quickly divesting Louis of his boxers and t-shirt, too.  

“Wha?” Louis moaned, so dazed with arousal that it took a second before it registered what Marcel was even referring to.  “Oh. No. Forget it.  Forget it.  Just -- just -- please.“

“Just what?” Marcel asked, with a teasing lift of his brows.  He lowered himself down onto the bed fully clothed, stretching out next to Louis. “Just touch you? Is that what you want?”  He’d gone up on one elbow so he could continue to run his eyes over the length of Louis’s body, and Louis felt the attention even more intensely now that he was naked, his senses dialing all the way up so that even the air around him felt like a torturous, teasing caress.  “I think it is,” Marcel whispered, still seemingly calm and collected in the face of Louis’s desperation. “I think you want to be touched… ”   

Louis nodded in agreement, unable to speak.  He craned his neck up, looking down his own body to where his flushed, rock hard cock lay on his stomach, and realized he’d unconsciously balled his fists up at his sides to keep from reaching for it himself.  Because that wasn’t really what he wanted.  What he wanted was for Marcel to do all the touching.  For Marcel to keep taking the lead, with everything.  To take care of him.  And Marcel seemed to know that.   

“The question is,” Marcel said, reaching out and skimming his fingertips from Louis’s left shoulder across his collarbone to his right, like the end of some kind of ridiculously sensual sign of the cross. “Where?  Where should I touch you, hm?”

Louis took a deep, shuddering breath, staring unblinkingly at where Marcel was now tracing lazy lines of electricity up and down his sternum.  “Here?” Marcel asked, swirling his fingers over Louis’s pectorals and around his peaked nipples, but never quite touching them. “Or here?”

His eyes crinkled up at the corners when Louis shot him a desperate, aggravated look, and he gave a throaty, delighted laugh when Louis attempted to elbow him in response.  He intercepted Louis’s arm, spreading Louis’s thighs easily and rolling on top of him in one fell swoop, still fully clothed.  

“Don’t worry. Gonna touch you everywhere,” He murmured, hitching Louis’s left leg up around his hip and proceeding to kiss him so long and deep that Louis felt awash in sluggish pleasure, almost drunk on it when they broke apart again.    

“ _Marce_ ,” Louis choked out in a whine.  His lips were swollen and throbbing in time with his heartbeat and his cock as he watched Marcel go back up onto his knees and pull his hooded sweatshirt off over his head.  He grinned down at Louis and then took him gently by the ankle.   

“Gonna touch you here,” Marcel said softly, pressing his lips to Louis’s skin and trailing slow, sucking kisses up the inside length of Louis’s leg.

“Fuck, Marcel… Fuck,” Louis was almost writhing, arching intermittently off the bed and gasping at the sensation by the time Marcel was nuzzling into the crease of his thigh.        

“That’s what you _really_ want, isn’t it?” Marcel asked, his voice rumbling out from his chest as he peered up at Louis, “For me to fuck you?”

Louis blinked back at Marcel where he was settled between his legs, and was struck by a wave of tender affection so powerful it momentarily stole his breath away.  He’d spent years and years teasing Marcel about his perpetual baby face, but right now he could feel the light prickle and burn of Marcel’s vacation stubble against the delicate skin of his inner thigh, and he was suddenly, ridiculously aware of the passage of time -- remembering and longing for a hundred different versions of himself and Marcel at various times over the course of their lives, all at once.  He felt so lucky, he thought he might fall completely apart.  

“Yes,” he choked out, his throat tightened up with love.  He reached down and ran a gentle thumb over the curve of Marcel’s cheekbone, brushing his fingers through his hair, before he continued in a whisper. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, _Lou_ ,” Marcel had read the emotions off Louis’s face, and his own voice was thick as crawled up Louis’s body and took his face in his hands, cool-Marcel persona long forgotten, for the moment.  “I love you so much,” he whispered, nostrils flared and eyes overbright, just like whenever he got verklempt.  

Louis let out a broken chuckle, laughing at them both.

“What a bunch of saps, we are,” he whispered back, brushing Marcel’s hair off his forehead again, “I love you, too.  So much.”

Marcel kissed him again, just as much insistently as before, but with a deeper emotional undercurrent this time.  “I am going to fuck you,” he gasped out, trailing kisses down Louis’s neck.  “I’m gonna -- God.  I love you.  I love you.”

The joy under Louis’s breastbone was so sharp it felt like it his whole chest might just crack open, all of his love spilling out everywhere.  His desperation matched Marcel’s, and he helped him struggle out of his sweatpants and then waited, spread out on the bed, while Marcel fumbled for the lube.

They maintained eye contact and murmured repeated I love yous while Marcel was opening him up, their breathing in sync as Marcel’s fingers worked inside Louis.  

“Marce,” Louis pleaded, when it got to be too much. Like he’d disintegrate if Marcel didn’t finally fuck him.  Louis had been so turned on, for so long, that his body ached from head to toe, his mind on fire with how much he wanted it. “Now, please.”

Marcel nodded, he went back up on his knees between Louis’s legs, and Louis drank him in with his eyes, admiring Marcel’s cock, thick and flushed and standing proudly out from his body as Marcel slicked it up.  

Louis had been so caught up in his own overwhelming desire, and it felt like it was somehow doubling inside him as he took a moment to appreciate how much Marcel wanted this too.  Louis wasn’t alone in it.  Not at all.  

He and Marcel had each other.  

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Marcel murmured, his eyes hot as he situated himself back between Louis’s thighs.  He let out a soft moan when he pushed inside, his face contorting with pleasure. “I can never really get over it.” Marcel said the words almost tentatively, with weight, like he was admitting a long held secret, “can’t really ever believe you’re mine, Lou.”

“Always,” Louis panted, rocking his hips in time with Marcel’s and clutching at him everywhere -- shoulders and biceps and the back of his neck, pulling him in by the ass.  “Always, always. Always.  Love you so much, I -- “ Louis cut himself off by kissing Marcel just as a towering wave of pleasure crested inside of him, all-consuming and intense.  He came, spurting hot between them.  

“Fuck.   _Louis_ ,” Marcel groaned, his thrusts coming quicker and quicker until he drove to the hilt and came, with a soft, drawn out sound, his head hanging down between his shoulders afterward, chest heaving.

Louis pulled Marcel flush on top of him, pressing a few kisses to his sweaty forehead.

“Love you,” Marcel mumbled into his skin, his eyes shut.

Louis smiled, carding his fingers lightly through Marcel’s hair.  “Love you, too.”

They lay together for a while, their breathing slow and sleepy.  Louis knew they still hadn’t really gotten to the bottom of his oversized reaction to cool-Marcel, but at the moment he was too satisfied to care.  Too in love.   

“Well,” he said with a little laugh, fighting off the pull of sleep.

“Yeah?” Marcel slurred against his pec, barely opening his mouth to speak.  

Louis laughed again, inhaling the scent of Marcel’s shampoo before he went on. “Guess you probably should get to work on that Transformation Chamber as soon as we get home.”

Marcel’s body shook against his as he laughed, burrowing even closer.  “Done.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [LaTitta](http://latitta.tumblr.com/) for helping me with the inspiration! And to [100percentsassy](http://100percentsassy.tumblr.com/) for always being supportive and my best friend! 
> 
> This is going to be a part of series because Louis and Marcel are going to get home and test out the "transformation chamber" and there will be more discussions about sex and feelings!!!!!! :))
> 
> Thank you very much for reading!


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